


Tradition

by Hodgeheg002



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Fluff, complete birthday fluff, with a little bit of whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:22:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23477692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hodgeheg002/pseuds/Hodgeheg002
Summary: There was one birthday tradition that Scott loved more than anything else.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little short thing I wrote at about 8am this morning when I first woke up. It's imperfect and super fluffy with a little bit of whump for good measure to celebrate Scott's birthday :)

Alan had always held a soft spot for his eldest brother, a soft spot that was mutually returned. As a toddler, he had spent hours following Scott around the house, sitting at the table with picture books whilst Scott studied, playing with toy cars in the garage if Scott had to work on his own real car, or following behind with a tiny beach rake when Scott was mowing the grass in their backyard. ‘Scott’ had been his first word, and he had cried when Scott had first left for college only to greet his brother with a flying tackle each and every time Scott returned to visit.

In turn, Scott had been the one to teach and look out for Alan. Scott had helped Alan learn to read and count, had let him choose which room he wanted on the Island as a bedroom ahead of Scott (who had promptly chosen the one next to it in order to keep a better eye on his youngest brother), had explained puberty to him and shown him how to shave, as well as looked after him through Alan’s first hangover when Gordon had been a little too happy in slipping Alan illicit alcohol the night before. The two brothers quite simply and quite obviously adored each other.

One way that this was shown, and Scott didn’t even remember which year it had started, was Scott waking up on his birthday with his arms full of a sleepy Alan. Alan had been a toddler when this had first happened, confusing an instruction to wake Scott up with giving Scott a hug, but the mumbled “happ’ birf Sco’” as Alan snuggled deeper into Scott’s chest had been met with a smile and tightened arms, Scott pressing his lips to the soft downy hair that filled his vision.

The early morning snuggle had changed as they got older, with Alan now lounging outside of Scott’s door only to bowl Scott over with a hug as soon as the door opened with a loud shout of “happy birthday!”. Scott would laugh, ruffle Alan’s hair and thank him as he was owed into the kitchen to meet the rest of the family. Scott would never admit it, but those morning birthday hugs would always be his favourite present, and he had never missed one.

At least, not until now, and in all honesty Scott had forgotten it even was his birthday, having spent part of the day before in a hospital waiting room whilst his stomach tied itself in knots with worry. A slippery, half collapsed, bridge had resulted in Alan losing his footing whilst attempting to reach those they were supposed to be rescuing. The resulting, sickening, crunch heard over the comms was something Scott never wanted to hear again, and he had flown over with his jetpack to find a heap of Alan with a badly broken leg. Following a mad dash to the hospital and an evening full of scans, plaster and pain, Alan and Scott had been sent home with a bag of painkillers, crutches and instructions of what to look out for and when to come back to the hospital for a check up. After settling Alan in his room and reassuring Grandma, Scott had all but collapsed on to his bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

It was unsurprising, therefore, that there was no Alan waiting for him outside his bedroom door when Scott opened it the next morning. Gordon and Virgil were already in the kitchen when Scott reached it, both exhausted from their own long rescue, and the pair managed a weary ‘happy birthday’ before disappearing to their rooms as soon as their cereal bowls had been stacked neatly in the dishwasher. John may like the ease of bagels as his snack, but on Tracy Island cereal reigned supreme as the post-rescue meal of choice and Grandma made it a point to track down as many interesting and unusual types as she could when out shopping for them, leading to an interesting if eclectic selection. However, the Coco Pops had not been touched, meaning that it had been a straightforward rescue, and Scott simply put the various boxes away before heading over to the coffee machine and starting his own morning rituals.

It was a little while later, after Scott had completed his normal routine of coffee, a run, shower and breakfast- always in that order- that he wandered into the den with the intention of catching up on the novel he had been intending to read since January. Instead, he found a shock of blonde hair poking up out of a heap of blankets, an injured leg propped up on cushions. Scott smiled, wandering down the steps and stopping in front of his youngest brother, Alan's face lit up, and he patted the space on the sofa next to him. Scott rolled his eyes but sat down regardless, Alan immediately rearranging himself so that he was draped over Scott much the same way he used to as a small child.

“What’re you doing?” asked Scott, voice laced with amusement, as Alan’s hair tickled the underside of his jaw. 

“Giving you a hug, ‘s tradition,” Alan slurred, still woozy from the medication that seemed to always affect him more strangely than his other brothers.

“Oh, I see.”

“Happy birthday, Scott,” Alan murmured, eyes starting to close. Scott smiled.

“Thanks Alan.”


End file.
